Beckon (23 page)

They continued on, following the narrow passage as it curved away from the sacrificial cavern. They crawled for several yards until it opened into a smaller chamber. Jack stood, thankful to at least be out of the cramped tunnel. As they ventured across the room, he could see that all over the floor were scattered curved, bony shells and fragments of appendages.

Then Elina pointed at something up ahead. “What is
that
?”

Jack held the flare out and spotted what looked like a large rock of some kind, an unnaturally rounded boulder nearly two feet in diameter. He stood, frozen. He had seen this before. He raised the light and could see more of the objects scattered around the chamber.

Elina leaned toward Jack and whispered, “What are those things?”

But Jack stood still. Too frightened to respond.

“Jack?” Dwight whispered. “What is it?”

“I think . . .” Jack's throat was dry. “I think we're in some kind of . . . nest.”

Chapter 43

George Wilcox sat in Thomas Vale's spacious office, behind Thomas Vale's burnished oak desk, in Thomas Vale's exquisite leather chair, with a shotgun across his lap.

Malcolm Browne—Thomas Vale's business manager—lay dead in the other room in front of Thomas Vale's massive stone fireplace. Loraine Browne, along with the Huxleys and the Dunhams, had already left for the evening and had probably gone to bed some time ago. George would deal with them later. In fact, he probably wouldn't need to do a thing.

But for the moment, all was quiet in Thomas Vale's mansion. So George sat there in the darkened office, waiting for Vale to return.

He felt little emotion, numbed by Miriam's death. Some part of him suspected he might soon join her, and that thought no longer filled him with apprehension. His wife had faced her end with courage. A courage born out of a faith that he now knew was more than empty religion. He would mourn for her when this was over. But for now he just needed to be patient.

He swiveled around and stared out the window into the night. The moon was nearly full and had already risen high into the night sky and lit up the whole countryside.

Shortly after midnight, the silence was broken by the sound of footsteps. George could hear them coming up the stairs. He listened closely. They were hurried and uneven. Someone was frightened and perhaps injured. And George could also hear the sound of labored breathing.

The footsteps reached the top and were now coming down the hall. George spun around to face the door. Moonlight streamed from behind him and lit the room with a dim but usable glow.

A silhouette appeared in the office doorway and stopped. George heard the breathing pause a moment and then resume.

Vale felt for the light switch and flipped it on. His shirt was drenched in blood, his face ashen with dark circles under his eyes. His hands were trembling, and he was sweating. Profusely. Yet he didn't look at all surprised to see George there.

George nodded toward Vale's bloodied shirt. “It looks like you ran into some trouble. It's a good thing you're immortal.”

Vale scowled and lurched into the side room where he stored the perilium. George listened carefully for the sound of his reaction when he saw the refrigerators. The mangled, empty refrigerators.

A full twenty seconds later, Thomas Vale emerged from the room, his eyes looking glazed and unfocused. He clutched one trembling hand in the other. “What do you want?”

George's eyebrows went up. “Excuse me?”

“How much do you want? Ten million? Twenty?”

“Money? You think I want
money
?”

“What, then?”

George raised the shotgun and aimed it directly into Vale's face. “I want my wife back.”

Vale's breathing grew more labored. “It wasn't . . . my fault. It was her . . . choice.”

“Well, in that case, I'll settle for watching you die.”

Vale glared at him. “What did you do . . . with it?”

George shrugged. “It's gone. Every last drop. I flushed it all down your own toilet.”

George watched Vale's incredulity turn to hate. “You . . . have no idea what I was . . . offering you.” He was sucking in air hard now. “The chance to be . . . young again.”

George leaned back in the chair. Vale was no longer fearsome—now frail and thin, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to keep from trembling.

“When did you become so arrogant,” George said, “to think you had the right to live off the deaths of innocent people like this? As if there would never come a reckoning.”

“Off your . . . high horse, George,” Vale said. “You know what you're capable of. We're . . . not so different . . . you and I.”

“Tell me something, Mr. Vale,” George said. “What are
you
afraid of? After all these years of cheating death, it's finally catching up with you. How does that feel?”

Vale opened his mouth, trying to respond, but his voice was already gone. He could no longer stop the tremors. Nor hide the symptoms of his impending fate. Both hands quivered violently. His arms began to tremble and then his legs.

He turned in a feeble attempt to leave. George imagined it was to find a place to hide. To keep George from witnessing the convulsions and so to rob him of that last bit of satisfaction. But his motor skills were negated now by the onslaught of his death.

George watched it spring upon him like some kind of predator as Vale crumpled to the floor—a trembling, contorted mass in its grip. His spine arched as his muscles contracted with violent spasms. His legs and arms stiffened at odd angles. Tremors racked his body and his head flung backward too, as far as his neck could bend. His jaw clenched tight as white foam frothed between his teeth. And George could see one of Vale's yellow eyes through the black snarls of hair, wide open in terror. His body flopped and jittered on the wooden floor, almost like a fish in the bottom of a boat or like some grotesque windup doll.

George drew long, slow breaths, fighting the urge to look away. It was a more gruesome spectacle than he had expected, and at length he could no longer stand to watch. His eyes moved to the clock on the wall.

Thirty seconds . . .

Forty-five seconds . . .

A full sixty seconds before the tremors finally abated and Thomas Vale lay still in a twisted heap.

But for the gagging rattle deep in his throat, it had been a silent, protracted death.

Chapter 44

Elina peered at the spherical objects in the light of the flare and could now see they weren't rocks at all. “What are they?”

“Egg sacs.” Jack's voice grew shaky. “Like the one I saw before.”

Dwight kicked the smaller shell fragments. “Then . . . I'm guessing these are bodies of the males. Maybe the ones who get eaten after mating or something.”

Elina shuddered. “Mating?”

Then the flare went out and darkness fell around them. Elina reached out for Jack, but the only sound was their breathing, echoing through the chamber.

Complete, smothering darkness hung on them like a death shroud. Then out of the inky black void, Elina heard the tapping sound she'd heard in the other chamber, and it sent a shiver through her body.

Jack lit another flare, and the brightness of its orange light filled the nesting chamber . . . with the exception of a large shadow that emerged from a tunnel on the far side. An enormous black shape hauled itself into the room.

The beast paused just outside the circle of light, clicking its fangs together as if trying to get its bearings. Or trying to locate its prey.

Elina fought to keep still, remembering what Vale had said about the creature's being able to smell fear—sensing it somehow in its prey. She sucked a long, slow breath into her lungs and held it.

But at that moment the beast lurched toward them. Its armored legs pounded across the stones in great, jerky strides and its jaws opened in a deafening shriek.

Jack yelled, “Get back in the tunnel!”

They spun around and dashed the way they had come with the creature lumbering after them. Elina's foot twisted on the shell fragments littering the floor and she tumbled to the ground. She felt a hand on her arm and saw Jack leaning over her, holding the flare.

“Come on!”

He tugged at her arm, trying to help her up, but it was as if time had slowed down as a huge, twisted shadow appeared behind them.

Suddenly Dwight leaped into the kirac's path, holding another flare in one hand and a pistol in the other. He fired off several shots directly into the creature's mouth, but the bullets only served to enrage it further.

The beast lifted one of its forelegs to strike.

Jack pulled Elina to her feet just as the giant queen impaled Dwight through his chest and pinned him to the ground. It reared up and hissed. Dwight's limbs quivered as blood poured from his mouth. One arm reached frantically for his gun but instead found the canvas bag Jack had dropped in the scramble toward the tunnel. He clutched it as the beast wrenched him sideways with an angry growl.

“Jack!” Elina grabbed Jack's arm and pointed to Dwight.

“Get out,” Dwight gasped, choking on his own blood. “Go!”

He lifted his hand and Elina spotted a round, metallic object in his grasp. She blinked. It looked for all the world like a . . .

Hand grenade.

She saw him pluck out the pin as the giant spider growled and pulled him into its embrace, sinking its fangs into his chest.

Jack darted forward to grab the bag, then took hold of Elina's wrist and yanked her back into the tunnel as the explosion shook the entire cavern.

The roar was deafening and followed by a loud, steady rumble. She could feel the ground vibrating beneath her. Her mind gave way to terror as she realized she had escaped this horrible beast only to be buried alive under tons of rock. The roar of the quake seemed to go on forever. Dust filled the passage, choking her and stinging her eyes. She squeezed them shut and prayed as a strange peace began to fill her mind. Her heart calmed; her breathing slowed. If this was the end, then she knew her life—her
soul
—was in God's hands.

Elina lay in complete darkness for what felt like several minutes, wondering if she was dead. She was cold and wet and every muscle ached from her ordeal, yet she knew they weren't safe yet. The explosion had collapsed the cavern behind them, sealing them inside the tunnel. Her ears still rang from the blast, and she lay in the cold mud. The vision of the enormous armored spider had been etched into her brain. That and her experience with the N'watu would certainly rob her of sleep for many weeks to come.

As her hearing returned, she could make out Jack's steady, rapid breathing next to her, and she knew at least they were alive.

“Jack,” she whispered, “are you okay?”

She felt him stir beside her. “I . . . I think so. How about you?”

“I'm okay. Nothing broken.”

She could hear Jack feeling around the passage.

“Well, I still have my shotgun,” he said after a moment. “And the bag of flares. But I only have a few left and they won't last long.”

“How . . . how did you even manage to find me?”

“It was Dwight,” Jack said. “He came down after Vale took you away and let the rest of us out. Apparently something gave him a change of heart.”

“He freed everyone?” Elina's hope rose. “What happened to Javier?”

Jack didn't answer right away. There was a muted pop as he lit one of the flares. Sparks flew all over in the cramped space and Elina's eyes ached from the light, but she could see that Jack's face looked grim.

“What's wrong?” she said. “Where
is
Javier?”

Jack shook his head. “He came with us to save you. But he didn't . . . I'm sorry. He was killed during the fighting.”

Elina stared at him. “Dead?” She ached as though a weight were pressing down on her shoulders. She had come all this way to find him. Now all the emotions she had tried so hard to control over the last few days finally broke through. She began to sob even as she tried to tell herself this wasn't the time for crying.

After a minute she felt Jack's hand on her shoulder. “Look, I'm sorry. I know it's a shock—and I'm really sorry—but we have to get going; we're running out of flares.”

Elina sucked in a deep breath and wiped her eyes, choking back her tears. She knew he was right. She could mourn for her cousin later. “What do we do now?”

They inspected the tunnel. The way behind them was thoroughly closed off. Several large boulders blocked the entrance, and they couldn't move them.

Finally Jack sighed. “I think there was a side passage up here.”

They had to maneuver on their hands and knees, which was slow going, but after several dozen yards the tunnel split, and the secondary tunnel eventually opened into a larger chamber. They emerged and stood up. Jack held the flare aloft and looked around. Elina peered up at him. He wasn't what she had expected. He was taller than she had imagined, for one thing. Taller than her by several inches and slender with short-cropped black hair, large brown eyes, and . . .

“Listen, Jack . . . thank you for saving me.” She looked down sheepishly. “But . . . why didn't you tell me you were black?”

Jack blinked and looked down at his arms. “I am?”

Elina couldn't help laughing. “I mean, after I said all those things?”

Jack raised an eyebrow and smiled. “I guess I didn't think it mattered at the time.”

Elina shook her head. “It didn't. I just—”

“And for the record, technically you never told me you were Hispanic.”

Elina laughed again. Despite all the horror she'd just been through, in her exhausted condition it felt good to laugh. “You mean my last name being Gutierrez didn't give it away, or . . .”

She stopped as she saw Jack's smile fade.

“What's wrong?” she said.

Jack shrugged. “This place . . . looks a little familiar.”

Elina wasn't sure this was a hopeful sign. “So you know where we are?”

Jack tossed the flare ahead of them. It flew up in a long arch and bounced to a halt in front of another strange rock formation. Only as Elina looked closer, she could see it wasn't rock at all. It was a pile of white . . . bones. A huge stack of bones piled high against the side of the cavern.

“Are those what I think they are?”

But Jack had fallen quiet.

“Jack?” she said again. “Please tell me those aren't human—”

“We need to get moving,” Jack said as he ignited another flare. “I think I know the way.”

Jack pointed in the direction opposite the pile of bones and moved quickly across the uneven floor. Elina hurried to keep up but could feel a presence somewhere off in the darkness. Some kind of impending menace, like an enormous shadow preparing to swoop down and swallow them.

After a moment Jack stopped, tilting his head.

“What is it?” Elina said.

At first the only sounds she could hear were her own breathing and the hiss of the flare. Then soon she heard something else. The eerie tapping sound she'd come to dread. But this time it was different. This time it sounded like more than one.

A lot more.

“Jack . . .”

But Jack grabbed her hand.
“Run!”

He led her on a zigzag route across the cavern. The flare crackled and sputtered and Elina thought she could see shadows scurrying along the ground just outside the ring of light. Jack pulled her behind him until they finally reached the other side. A black wall of rock loomed up in front of them. Jack looked like he was searching for something.

Maybe another tunnel. Hopefully the way out.

Something skittered along the rocks behind her and she screamed. A black shape raced toward her out of the darkness. It was a miniature version of the giant kirac, only the size of a dog. But it was faster and seemed far more aggressive.

Jack charged the creature, flare held out in front of him. He swung his leg and booted the beast back into the darkness. Then he turned and yanked her arm. “This way!”

They moved along the wall until they came to another opening. A passage leading up at an angle. Jack tossed the flare behind them and boosted Elina into the tunnel.

The flare landed a few yards away, where it illuminated a horde of the spider creatures—of all sizes—scurrying toward them.

Jack pumped his shotgun and blasted the closest one, flipping it backward into the pack. The others immediately converged on the wounded creature, tearing it to pieces. One of the bigger creatures launched itself toward them. Jack raised the shotgun and fired point-blank, blasting a hole right through it. It bounced off Jack, knocking him down, and landed on the ground, twitching in front of him.

Jack scrambled to his feet, covered in yellow guts, and pulled himself up into the tunnel. “Go, go, go!”

Elina turned and climbed up the angled passage, scraping her hands and cracking her head against the jagged walls.

“I can't see where I'm going!”

Jack lit a flare and handed it to her. “Last one,” he said. “Now go—hurry!”

Elina held the crackling flare in one hand and climbed as fast as she could up the tunnel. Water trickled down past her and she had to keep the flare from getting wet. At length the passage widened out and came to a dead end.

She crouched in the space and turned around. “What now?”

Jack was clawing his way up just a few yards behind her. “Up. Climb straight up.”

Elina could see a small opening above her, perhaps into another passage. Water was streaming down through it. She stood and tried to find a foothold but couldn't reach the opening.

In moments Jack had joined her in the cramped space. He took the flare and boosted her into the opening. Elina scrambled up and found herself in a wide, low passage, worn smooth by a constant flow of water. She could feel it angling the other way, sloping down into complete darkness.

Jack struggled to climb into the passage. “Pull me up!”

Elina reached down through the opening and clutched his arm. Suddenly she saw something moving in the passage behind him. One of the spiders, a big one, was coming up fast.

“Jack!”

“I know!”

He turned, pointed the shotgun down the tunnel, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

He pumped and tried again but was clearly out of ammo. He jammed the gun diagonally into the passage, wedging it tight between the walls just as the kirac slammed into it, hissing and growling. Elina could see its fangs twitching. Its forelegs reached through and clawed at Jack's feet, but the gun held fast.

Behind it, Elina saw movement. More were coming.

Jack turned and jumped for Elina's hand. She caught hold and pulled while he scrambled up. “Don't let go!”

Elina pulled his arms and shoulders into the passage.

“Pull me up!” Jack said frantically. “Pull me up!”

Elina strained, her muscles burning. She leaned back into the tunnel as Jack clawed at the rocks, trying desperately to pull himself up. She could feel her hands slipping.

Jack shook his head, his eyes wide in terror. “Don't let go!”

Elina pulled with all her strength. But his hands slipped through her grasp and her momentum sent her sliding backward down the passage into the darkness.